Talk about true love... Mom and Brutus are reunited. It must be Christmas.

December 20, 2013 – Friday

11 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

Mom arrived in great shape. The true antithesis of a little old white-haired lady who’s on the fast track to ninety, Mom gets younger each time we see her. Once landing in Iron Mountain, she almost hopped down the steps of the small jet, skipped across the tarmac, and waltzed into the terminal on Wednesday afternoon.

We made a quick stop at the Vision Center to see Sargie, grabbed a burger, then came on home.

To say her very best friend in the world was happy to see her would be an understatement. Since Mom’s arrival, she and Brutus have been almost inseparable; even to the point that he snubbed his blankie that lies on the floor at the foot of our bed and started off last night sleeping in Mom’s room.

Partially covered with an electric throw, he's asking if anyone wants to mess with Grandma. Not me!

Brutus would love to be Mom's lap dog, but somehow, I don't think that'll happen.

I baked a couple of loaves of bread Wednesday afternoon and we enjoyed grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for supper.

I was up early Thursday morning making cinnamon rolls. My favorite recipe includes maple syrup, white Nestles morsels, and dried cranberries. We enjoyed those, while still hot, for breakfast.

Sargie was off to work early and Mom and I sat for most of the morning talking and sipping coffee. It was nice getting caught from the past several months. Though we email daily and often talk once or twice a week, it’s nice to do the real thing. Mom is busy with life in her senior community and when she’s not in the workout room or playing Mexican Train dominoes or cards, she’s chairing or on about every committee possible.

After all the cold temperatures, fishermen are already setting out their ice shacks and driving their trucks onto the local lakes.

I took a couple of hours Thursday afternoon to go fishing. It remains poor. I had my line broken within two minutes of initially lowering the jig through the hole before catching only one northern and two small bass the rest of the day. Oh well, that’s the most action I’ve had all year, so maybe it’s improving. For certain, the pressure’s on. I’ve promised Mom a fish fry before she returns home a week from today.

Sargie was home early last night and we had a wonderful evening just talking and watching television. I just received a text from Andy. He’s presently at the Houston Airport waiting for his flight north. We’re to pick him up in Iron Mountain shortly after noon today. I’m ready to get my littlest boy home for the holidays and spoil him a bit.

Sargie’s working early today. Mom, Andy, and I, will guard the fort by talking and laughing and Brutus will think Andy fly all that way just to see him.

It’s time to wake Sargie and get another cup of coffee. There’s a whole lot of holiday spirit and cheer on Pentoga Road these days. For that, I’m so grateful.

Oops, I have to throw a log on the fire. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…